


Petrichor, Pineapple and Pomegranate

by onbeinganangel



Series: the year of the threesome [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (but sadly no spanking actually happens), Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Established James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Established Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Multi, Scent Kink, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, a hint of d/s dynamics, mentions of spanking, wolfstarbucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28463892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onbeinganangel/pseuds/onbeinganangel
Summary: If you’re not using your enhanced werewolf sense of smell to find out that your friends have got the hots for you, what are you even doing?
Relationships: Remus Lupin/James Potter, Sirius Black/James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin/James Potter
Series: the year of the threesome [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091564
Comments: 38
Kudos: 250





	Petrichor, Pineapple and Pomegranate

**Author's Note:**

> thank you [Starry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarryknight/pseuds/thestarryknight) for all the enabling and pushing you've done and for allowing me to bring this fic and this series to life. 
> 
> lots of gratitude to Gem and to [The_Sinking_Ship](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sinking_Ship) for beta reading this mess, helping me get rid of my mile long sentences and ridiculously placed commas <3
> 
> (i'm going to put this here because i didn't think it needed its own tag but there's a wee mention of a past James/Regulus kiss, i thought you may want to know about before diving in)

one

Remus Lupin learns the scent of his new roomates at age eleven. James Potter, with his warm smile and unruly hair, smells a little fruity and a little tart, but bright and sunny like a summer’s day. Peter Pettigrew, the small one with the loud laugh, smells of breakfast, like baked goods and orange juice. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the tallest of them and the only one that seems as excited about being at Hogwarts as Remus himself, smells of berries and fresh parchment. The snobby pureblood one with the beautiful hair, Sirius Black, has the most enticing scent of all - petrichor and pine, but wood and old books too, like an antique store. By the morning of the second of September 1971, Remus Lupin has these scents memorised.

At twelve, he begins to recognise the way Sirius’ scent turns slightly spicier whenever Remus or James are in the room. As far as Remus can tell, this doesn’t happen around anyone else, just James and Remus. Remus doesn’t understand what that change of smell means until he is fourteen.

By age sixteen, he knows that James’ smell also changes when Lily Evans is present. 

At seventeen, his favourite smell becomes the almost unbearably spicy, earthy scent of Sirius Black when he comes.

The biggest surprise, however, comes at eighteen. Lily is away at some horrible family dinner that James has somehow managed to avoid. The three of them sit at a corner booth in a dark Muggle pub. As is the case whenever he has a couple beers too many, Sirius is a little _handsier_ than usual, but James never seems bothered by Remus and Sirius’ public displays of affection.

It isn’t a romantic thing either. Sirius is affectionate with everyone. He likes touching and kissing and hugging. It is just how he is. But, as Sirius sucks Remus’ earlobe in the booth across from James, that sickly-sweet pineapple and pomegranate scent he recognises as James’ lust invades his senses. He has never known it to smell so strong, _so intense._

For a second, Remus doubts himself. His sense of smell has never failed him, but surely, this isn’t right. Maybe James thought of Lily for a second. Too curious not to find out, Remus lifts his eyes to James and, finding his friend gaping at them and looking flushed, winks. It was unmistakable then, between the heightened levels of _that scent_ and the rapid drumming of James’ heart.

That’s how it all starts.

* * *

two

It takes Remus a couple of seconds to catch on to the fact that someone has actually knocked on the door. It shouldn’t be that surprising. Sirius refuses to get the flat connected to the Floo network, claiming his family has too many connections at the Ministry. And it’s just better that way as the only two people that can Apparate in and out are Sirius and Remus. But they never have anyone over unexpectedly. Remus places his book face down on the arm of the loveseat so he doesn’t lose the page and grabs his wand from where it’s sandwiched in between the cushioned seat and the arm. He walks slowly to the door and opens it, then sighs in relief at the smiling redhead on the other side of the door frame.

“Lily?” _Rosewater and pears, Lily Evans._

“Hey, Re,” she says. Lily steps over the threshold and bends to take her tall brown boots off. Then, as if walking into her own house, pads softly into the kitchen and starts filling up the kettle.

“Cuppa?” She asks.

“Hello, Lily. How are you? I am well, thank you. It’s lovely to see you. Yeah, it has been a while, hasn’t it? Wonderful of you to have come over while Sirius and James are doing whatever the hell it is they do on that motorcycle. Come in, come in, of course. Would you like some tea?” He says, sarcastically, while Lily laughs and pulls mugs out of the cupboard.

“I deserve that, I suppose,” she says, still laughing. She puts the kettle on the Muggle way and sits at the table, after gently kissing Remus’ cheek.

“What brings you over? If this is about Petunia, I’m afraid our resident specialist in sibling drama is out with your boyfriend.”

Lily eyes him curiously. “Why must there be a reason for me to visit?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Is there not?” He counters, because he knows there is. It isn’t like Lily to just pop over out of the blue.

“Okay, point,” she says, and sighs, resigned. “I need to talk to you about Jamie.”

Whatever Remus was expecting to come from a conversation with Lily Evans on a Wednesday morning, _this_ was definitely not it. The kettle whistles as Lily lays down the reasons why “Jamie needs to get it out of his system” and Remus thinks that, despite the time of the day, tea isn’t exactly going to cut it for this discussion.

*

Remus wakes up to the smell of old books — that glorious mix of musty, grassy, vannila-y deliciousness — and wood, buttery, raw and soft, like fresh pencil shavings. That, he has known for a few years, is the smell of Sirius Black’s love. Every day, it pours out of Sirius effusively and envelops Remus. It makes him feel safe, needed, wanted. It soothes the wolf. It restores the human. 

He rolls over and pushes his body against the curled up ball that is Sirius and waits for the sweet sound that his boyfriend makes when he wakes: a low purr, followed by a soft whimper. Remus wraps one hand around Sirius’ middle and the other goes straight for his hair — one of the Remus’ favourite things to touch.

Sirius eventually stirs.

Days are lazy and largely uneventful since Remus got laid off from the bookshop in Diagon Alley after needing time off two Full Moons in a row. Mrs Collins never said anything outright, didn’t even hint at it, but it was obvious to Remus that she was highly suspicious about his _health issue._ Now, Remus tutors that small kid from Cornwall whose Muggle mum doesn’t care about Remus’ problem (if magic can be real, what’s the problem with werewolves, _right_?) twice a week, and argues with Sirius every two weeks because Sirius thinks they’ve got enough money to wait the war out, and Remus doesn’t need to be begging for jobs from people who can’t see past the wolf.

He has to admit that _it is_ nice, for once, to have some peace, to have a life that feels normal. Or as normal as it can when you’re a queer, werewolf wizard in London in the late 1970s.

It’s been four days since Lily arrived in his kitchen with the most unexpected proposal of Remus’ life, and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it. 

The weak winter sun slashes through the blinds into the room and Remus watches the way it makes Sirius’ hair shine. He thinks maybe today is a good day to bring up Lily’s offer to Sirius. He isn’t nervous, per se — not about Sirius anyway. It wouldn’t be like Sirius to shy away from anything like this. They’ve had their fair share of threesomes and _outside of the box_ adventures. As long as Sirius is back in _their_ bed at the end of the day, and the wolf can do whatever he pleases to mark him again and make him his, it’s all fine.

James is the wildcard in this situation. Doing this with James toes a line they’ve never dared to even get near. There is an emotional side to this and Remus knows it’ll be Sirius’ first protest.

In the afternoon, when it’s clear that the rain has finally stopped and made way for the crisp, cold, sunny winter days Remus loves, Sirius asks him if he fancies a ride on his beloved deathtrap. It’s the perfect excuse, so Remus, for once, says yes.

The gentle rumble of the motorbike is Sirius’ favourite feeling in the world and Remus can smell his contentment. This is the sole reason Remus tolerates the thing.

Remus holds onto his boyfriend’s middle for dear life and waits until they’re up in the air and heavily disillusioned. Sirius spells the bike to keep flying at a moderate speed, then throws a leg over the bloody thing and turns around to face Remus, which, as always, makes Remus’ heart stop for a few seconds.

“Hi babe,” Sirius says after his acrobatic trick.

“Padfoot, you know I hate it when you do that.” He doesn’t. Well, he does a little. It’s rather reckless. But it has made for very good memories in the past. It’s all a bit conflicting.

“Do you now?” Sirius asks and leans forward to kiss Remus’ lips. 

“You know I do.” It comes out weak as Sirius’ lips trace a little path from the corner of Remus’ smile down to his jaw and the soft spot where jaw meets neck right under his ear.

“What’s on your mind?” Sirius asks, after a few minutes of slow kissing.

“That obvious, am I?” Remus asks, in response. He supposes he is — to Sirius, at least. It doesn’t matter how well he can smell emotions on others, how he hears hearts beating faster and breaths hitching. Sirius can read him like an open book, _the devil._

“How do you feel about a threesome?” He finally asks, because that’s how things have to be with Sirius. Open communication. Straight to the point.

Sirius perks up. “It has been a wh—”

“With James.”

And there it is. _The scent of rainfall after a drought, the heavy tang of pine._

 _“With James,”_ Sirius repeats in disbelief. But Remus knows he only has to look down to see the bulge in his boyfriend’s jeans fattening up.

“Yeah. With James.”

“Three questions, Moons. Have you gone mad? What about Lily? Have you considered Jamie is straight?”

Ah. If only guessing the lottery numbers was as easy as guessing how Sirius Black is going to react to anything.

“Three answers, Pads. A long time ago. Lily is the very reason why I am suggesting this. And there’s strong evidence that suggests the contrary.”

Before he can figure out what the fuck Sirius is doing, he’s turned around again, charmed the motorbike to be manually controlled, and started speeding downwards. 

“We’re going to go home and you’re going to explain this very, very clearly to me, Remus,” he says, but Remus can still smell it on him. There’s no fear, no worries, no anxiety. All of it is want, lust, and curiosity.

*

Lily reaching out to Remus before he had a chance to formulate a plan was a coincidence. Sirius agreeing to the plan as soon as he’d heard Lily had given her blessing was predictable. It takes over a week for Remus to start working on the final part of the plan but now, it is up to him to get the most vital piece of this jigsaw on board.

The first thing James says when he spots Remus in the corner booth at the pub is, “No Sirius?”

Remus is apprehensive, but that is the whole point. No Sirius so Remus can focus, _no Sirius so James can focus._

“Not tonight, I’m afraid.”

“Either something is wrong or you’ve been here a while,” James points out, nodding at Remus’ nearly empty pint on the cardboard beer-soaked coaster. “I’ll get you another one.” 

Remus drains the rest of the beer. They should be sober for this conversation, but two pints isn’t enough to do any damage. At least not to Remus. It would be an entirely different story if Sirius was present for this.

It’s a Monday evening in late January, so the pub is quiet. Remus casts a gentle _Muffliato_ around them when James returns and sets the drinks down. 

“Sosomething _is_ wrong _,”_ James says, in response to Remus’ _not-that-subtle_ casting.

Remus doesn’t answer that. He smiles and takes a sip of the fresh pint.

He settles for an easy opening. “I had an interesting conversation with your wife-to-be the other day.”

James looks cross.

“You lot need to stop calling her that. She _will_ realise.” Remus, Sirius and Peter know that

James is planning to propose to Lily the day after Valentine’s day, which, incidentally, is their anniversary. He bought the ring after their second date. Then he adds, “What conversation?”

Honesty had worked with Lily, and bluntness with Sirius. This, however, requires some finesse, some good old fashioned charm. Remus would have to press the right buttons and play to James’ natural curiosity. _If it doesn’t kill the cat, it will, at the very least, get him laid._

“Your Lily flower seems convinced there’s something you’re missing, Prongs. I am afraid I’m going to have to agree with her.”

Remus sits back and pulls the pint up to his mouth, but doesn’t drink from it. Instead, he watches the beautiful flush that rises to James' cheeks, the way his eyes go a tiny bit wider. His scent shifts a little, but not enough for Remus to figure out what exactly James is feeling.

“Oh yeah? And what would that be?” He says, the arrogant bastard.

_Some cock, perhaps?_

“We just think you’re wanting to diversify your portfolio a little, Prongsy.”

“ _We?_ Meaning you and Lily?”

“Well, and Sirius.”

That gets a reaction out of James again. It makes Remus wonder if this is a Sirius only thing. If what Remus had planned, had wished for, isn’t part of the equation at all. James answers that question for him.

“ _You_ and Sirius?”

Remus thinks on how to answer James’ question very carefully. He knows they are talking about the exact same thing here. And he knows they will have to have a serious — clear, with no metaphors — conversation about this before anything happens, no matter how much James blushes and Sirius complains. But, for now, he just needs confirmation that James wants this as much as he does, as much as he knows Sirius does too. He smiles up at James, who’s waiting, heart beating a little faster.

Remus settles for a simple answer. “If you want.”

And he smells it then. _Pineapple and pomegranate._ Almost too sweet, but irresistible.

It is immediately obvious that James is up for it. And he’s up for it _now_. Remus had planned for this to be a gentle nudging towards his goal, but he didn’t expect for James to jump at the chance this easily. All of Remus’ many plans since that day at this very pub six months ago melt as quickly as snow under rainfall. He’d assumed James would laugh it out, have questions, go home and discuss it with Lily. Instead, he downs the remaining half of his pint in one go and asks, “Side-Along me?”

Remus laughs. _Fuck it,_ they’re doing this. “Yeah,” he says, “give me a second.” He finishes his drink too, the hoppy, bitter, cold beer a balm for the burning on his skin at the prospect of taking James home and _taking him apart._

James is on his feet and halfway out of the door before Remus has had a chance to wrap his scarf around his neck.

 _Eager,_ Remus thinks. _Sirius and him will get on like a house on fire._ They do in every other way, why would it be different in bed?

He follows James out of the pub and they cut a sharp right into the little alleyway that reeks of piss and rubbish.

“Are you sure you want this?” Remus checks again. He knows James does, he can smell it on him, but he wants him to know he has the choice. He can say no.

“I do. So much,” James says, laughing, but even the laugh can’t mask how high with need his voice is. “I have heard you so many times, Remus. The sounds Padfoot makes— he sounds—” James shakes his head then, unable to finish his sentence.

“Believe me, I know how he sounds,” Remus says.

Then James, still a step ahead of Remus, turns around to look at him.

“Can we kiss? Are we allowed to kiss?”

“We can do whatever you want, Jamie. But we can go home first, if you want,” Remus says, watching the slight shiver of James’ body, standing in the alleyway next to the pub without a coat on. “We can go home and we can talk about all this with Sirius. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“I don’t want to talk,” James says, with a pout, and crowds Remus. And this close, the scent is intoxicating. 

If that’s how he wants it, that’s how he’ll have it, Remus decides.

“Jamie,” he starts. “Have you ever kissed a man?”

Remus knows his answer immediately because he can smell the most familiar scent of all. Shame. James nods.

“Who?”

James shakes his head. “I can’t tell you.”

Remus’ heart somersaults. “Sirius said nothing ever happened between—”

“It’s not Sirius,” cuts James. The silence stretches and Remus rubs James’ right wrist gently. James is not Sirius. A sharp “tell me” won’t work here. He waits.

“You can’t tell him—” James says, and Remus _knows. Fucking hell._ He regrets pushing. When he smelled the shame he thought maybe one of the other guys in the Quidditch team, _Gryffindor’s team,_ something dumb like that. But no. He isn’t sure how he knows, but he knows.

“Regulus?” He asks. He means for it to be gentle, he really does, but it comes out as a squeak. 

“Let’s not talk about this. Let it go?” he pleads. And Remus complies. He has no desire to open that can of worms now. 

“Yeah,” he says, and pulls James slightly closer, tips his head down and brushes his lips to his, “okay.”

James doesn’t hesitate one second. He kisses back like a man who knows what he wants. Like he’s wanted this forever. Like he has waited a thousand years to kiss Remus this way. 

_“Fuck.”_

To think that this entire time, Remus had doubted James wanted _him_. Had convinced himself time and time again that James wouldn’t want him, that it would always be that intangible, magical connection between James and Sirius that no one could come between. And yet. James is kissing Remus against the red brick wall outside the pub, hands timidly grabbing at Remus’ side, sweet and bitter tongue tentatively pushing against Remus’ own.

It’s been a while since Remus has tasted anything that isn’t Sirius’ delicate balance of earth, spice, and wood. It makes him dizzy with want. He wraps one hand around the back of James’ neck and pulls him closer. When he is rewarded with a low moan, he regretfully parts their kiss. 

“Okay, Jamie, let’s get you home now, yeah?”

And with only a quick nod from James for an answer, Remus Apparates them straight to his and Sirius’ front step.

* * *

three

Remus knocks on the door instead of using his own key or magic. James is holding his hand like a lifeline and keeps stealing glances at him while they wait for Sirius to, Remus assumes, get his arse off the sofa and walk over to the door. Remus knows he must be awake because he can just make out the distinct beat of T. Rex’s _Mambo Sun,_ which means Sirius has just put on the record.

Sirius opens the door and his eyes go a little wide as he looks between Remus and James several times. The song stops and there’s utter silence for a handful of seconds. James’ hand squeezes Remus’ harder, and the tension is palpable. Remus can hear Sirius and James’ hearts beat in tandem. Then, just as Marc Bolan’s voice streams from the corner of the room as the next song starts, Sirius finally speaks.

“Now? We’re doing this now?” Sirius asks.

Remus laughs and finally pulls James into the flat. He makes James sit at the kitchen table, then pulls three glasses out of the cupboard and fills them with water to the brim. His skin is prickling under the scrutiny of Sirius' big, silvery eyes so full of need and questions.

He places a glass of water in front of James and says, “drink.” 

James is too dazed to even argue.

Remus leans back against the table and pulls Sirius against him. Before he can gather his own thoughts, Sirius is asking, “Moony. Is it now?” 

He laughs. “Yeah. Yes. Have you been drinking?”

Sirius shakes his head and accepts the glass of water Remus offers him. “You’re going to be patient and do what I say, okay?” Sirius gives him a cheeky smile then. “I’m serious.”

_Oh, shit. He’s done it again._

“No, babe, you’ll find that _I’m_ Sirius.” 

Behind Remus, James laughs and it’s clear he and Sirius share _a look._

“Right. Sit on that side,” Remus commands, pointing to the seat opposite from James. “I’m gonna need you both to tell me what you want from tonight. And what you’re definitely not up for.”

As always, Sirius is difficult. “You know what I’m up for,” he says, immediately. 

“Jamie doesn’t. The quicker we get some boundaries down, the quicker we can get to it. Pads, you know how it works.” And although it is Sirius' name he says, Remus is looking at James. 

Remus knows Sirius’ body, his reactions, and his scent like it’s his own. James, on the other hand, is a bit of a puzzle, but one he’s looking forward to putting together.

Remus has always known James was fit. He probably noticed it before he even noticed Sirius, if he’s being honest. It was hard not to notice, with the way James had very little qualms with nudity and would happily cross the length of the dormitory in the buff after a shower.

There’s a thick, hazy cloud of lust in the air. It can’t be ignored. It’s in the nervous way Sirius touches his hair, the heated look James gives Remus, the one that Remus can’t get enough of. Remus is hanging by a thread himself, and god knows he is the one with the most self-control out of the three of them.

It takes time — between Sirius’ reluctance to collaborate and James’ nervous tension — but Remus manages to convince James to open up. James admits he isn’t sure he’s up for bottoming, but as long as they keep communicating openly during, he’s good to go. Remus reassures him that he gets whatever he wants and not one bit more.

Remus senses a little apprehension from Sirius and waits it out, gives him time. Then, finally, “We’re going to be okay, yeah? After this?” Sirius looks at James then, “Prongs, you’re my best mate.”

“Fuck, don’t get all mushy on me now, Pads. We’ll be fine,” James says.

“We’ll be fine,” Remus confirms. And, like that, it’s like the room swirls around them, the tension crackling again. Everything changes.

“Pads, will you do me a favour and get naked and get on the bed? No touching, if you can manage. We’ll be right there.”

Merlin, if the way Sirius moves right then isn’t the hottest thing Remus has ever seen in his life. His eagerness pours out of every little motion as he looks at Remus with hungry eyes and then at James, who’s watching him just like Remus. Then, he lets his hair down as he walks to the bedroom, well aware of what _that_ does to Remus.

Remus turns to look at James straight on, to find him stoic but breathing hard.

“Hey,” he says. “You still okay?”

James nods and reaches out, standing up as he does. Remus grabs his hand and lets himself be pulled against James’ body. James kisses him again with the same fervour as before, and Remus should have never doubted how James Potter would be— intense, unable to back down from any challenge.

“You want to fuck him, don’t you?” Remus asks between kisses, high on the sweetness of James’ scent.

“Can I?” 

“Prongs. We have just spent twenty minutes going over what we can and can’t do.”

“I know, but if it’s something _you two_ do, I don’t want to mess with that.”

“Too late,” Remus says with a gentle nip to James’ lip. He stands up and pulls James with him in one swift motion. “Come on, Potter. We’ve got a naked Sirius Black in desperate need of attention.”

And that may as well be an understatement because when they finally reach the bedroom, Sirius is propped against all the pillows in the middle of the bed, panting harshly, stroking himself slowly.

“Thought I said no touching,” Remus says, knowing perfectly well Sirius would never follow his instructions. 

“Well, I _thought_ you said you’d be right here, but it’s been like half an hour.”

Remus almost laughs, but he’s looking at James, who’s looking at Sirius, and it’s a revelation. He’s never seen James like this — desperate, needing, wanting. It’s awe-inspiring, and Remus knows just what to do. He walks over to the armchair that’s covered in band t-shirts and soft cardigans, and pushes them onto the floor. The mess isn’t a concern right now.

“Prongs, come here,” he says, sitting down on the chair.

He doesn’t need to pull James into him or say anything else, because James follows him and straddles him without a word. 

“We’ll make Pads watch for now, since he can’t control himself,” he stage-whispers to James, who giggles nervously, and bends down to kiss Remus.

Remus knows this isn’t exactly punishment for Sirius, as it’s evident from the shocked noise he makes, rapidly followed by a moan. 

James plays his part beautifully, gets right down to it. Remus lets his hands wander much further than he allowed himself outside the pub and grabs James’ arse as they kiss and pant into each other’s mouths. It’s impossible to ignore the pressing of his cock against his trousers, and, by the looks of it, James is suffering from the exact same problem. Remus snakes both hands under James’ thin jumper. James gets the hint and helps him get rid of it entirely. Remus pinches one nipple, then the other, and he steals a peek at Sirius on the bed. Their eyes meet and that’s when Sirius finally says, “Fuck, you two look so good.”

Sirius’ words seem to spur James on, and James’ eyes light up when Remus finally gets to the button on his jeans and opens the zip. Remus is desperate to get his mouth on James as soon as he sets eyes on his thick cock, jutting out from a patch of perfect tiny black curls. Instead, he strokes James with one hand and makes quick work of his own trousers with the other.

James. _James,_ who looks gorgeous, more gorgeous than ever, with his head thrown back, both hands on Remus’ shoulders.

“Bloody hell,” James says, when he looks down again.

Before he can even react, Sirius cackles from the bed. James twists his neck just enough to look at Sirius and Remus watches, silently. 

“It’s brilliant, right?” says Sirius.

“It’s— it’s—” 

“Big, yeah,” Sirius finishes for James, who looks genuinely grateful to have his sentence finished for him. 

Remus knows he’s perhaps a little above average, but he’s never had two lovers discuss it in this way.

“You can touch,” he says to James. _Please touch me,_ is what he means.

And James does. Carefully, at first, but Remus knows how this goes — a dick is a dick whether it’s your own or someone else’s. Everyone with one gets there sooner or later. In James’ case, thank fuck it is sooner rather than later. 

A low “fuck” trickles out of his lips at the same time as someone else’s, but he can’t tell if it’s James or Sirius. 

Sirius is fucking into his own fist in earnest now, and Remus knows he should probably stop him before this ends way too soon for everyone.

“Pads, slow down,” he manages, after a little. “And you,” he says to James, “let me take care of you.”

He pulls James’ hips down until he’s sitting on his thighs, rather than just hovering above him, and scooches the smallest bit forward until his cock finally touches James’, who gasps and pants and moans. Remus conjures lube and uses his hands to stroke them both.

“Oh Merlin. Oh fuck. Ohhhhh.”

“I think Jamie likes that, Moony,” Sirius says, and Remus looks up to find him on the very edge of the bed, on his knees, watching avidly. “Bet he’d like it even better if I sucked him off.”

Having been on the receiving end of many of Sirius’ blowjobs, he knows Sirius isn’t wrong. “What do you think, Prongs?” 

But James is far too gone for words already. He nods, eagerly, and Remus helps him get up on his feet again and tilts his head towards the bed in encouragement.

Sirius looks anxious for a second. Smells it, too. He shuffles on his knees back to the middle of the bed, and James approaches, gently, on his knees too. It’s like watching two small animals that have never seen each other interact for the first time. 

The dam breaks when Sirius tentatively kisses James, like Remus knew it would. He can smell it, the change in Sirius — the strong pine of his anxiety melting away and giving way for the lush earthy spice of rain falling on the dry soil of his pleasure. Remus would recognise it even without his superior sense of smell. He knows Sirius, and he knows how much he’s wanted this — h _ow long he’s wanted James,_ which is all this comes down to, at the end of the day.

Every one of his senses is heightened and Remus takes his time. He leans back on the black velvet chair, chucks his jumper on the floor and makes his way down the buttons on his shirt, eyes never leaving the picture the other two make on the bed. 

Sirius is finally on his back again, fully naked, propped on his elbows so he can kiss James. And James leans over him, topless, with his jeans undone, cock hanging through the open flies, inches away from Sirius’.

“I always knew you’d look so fucking hot together,” Remus says, before he can stop himself.

Remus would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of this many times before, of these two together. The way they’ve always been tethered to one another, translating to this — this pure chemical reaction. He knew it would be like this. He knew letting James touch Sirius would be throwing a match into a puddle of gasoline. 

This is the Sirius Remus knows so well. There isn’t anything in this Sirius that Remus doesn’t recognise: the hungry kissing, the little mewls at the back of his throat, the desperation in trying to get James’ jeans and pants off in one go. But he is fascinated by this James. He’s James through and through, and yet — there’s something about him, something that doesn’t exist in the James Potter he knows. There is something delicate, almost ethereal, in the way he touches Sirius. 

Remus could watch them all night, although he doubts they’d last all night without him interfering, from the way they’re rutting against each other on the duvet.

“I was convinced I was getting the pleasure of watching you blow James, Pads… but if you’ve changed your mind, I’d be happy to do it.”

It is almost slow motion, the way it happens. Watching Sirius’ pink tongue peek out to wet his lips, watching his pale hand caress James’ side, his hipbone, his balls, and finally, grab him at the very base of his cock as he lowers his mouth. And then there’s James, head falling backwards onto the duvet, hips rising up of their own accord, a “oh ffffffffffffuck” hissed through his teeth. Remus struggles to decide what or who he wants to look at the most.

Sirius starts slow, as he always does. Remus knows what it feels like, the way his tongue moves, the way he bobs up and down like he doesn’t actually require air to keep living. The way he makes it sloppy, messy, wet, and perfect.

Remus strokes himself slowly, realising then that he’s still half dressed. But he can’t take his eyes off of _them._ The way James is moaning, the way Sirius is moving over James’ body.

And then, something magnificent happens. Something Remus _knows_ he will remember forever. He is about to open his mouth and tell James he can fuck Sirius mouth, in fact he _should_ fuck Sirius mouth — he likes it — and, for the love of all that’s sacred, grab his hair and pull, when James does just that. With a fistful of Sirius’ gorgeous locks, he thrusts up and moans not “Sirius”, not “Padfoot”, but “ _Remus_ ”. It’s purely by miracle that Remus has enough brain power to squeeze at the base of his cock and stop himself from coming at the sight.

Sirius lets James’ cock fall out of his mouth and climbs over him for a kiss. Remus doesn’t miss the way their bodies move against each other, the way Sirius’ hips press against James as they kiss. He probably wouldn’t have heard what Sirius say next if it weren’t for his increased sense of hearing — there _are_ perks to being a werewolf. He would have missed it behind the sounds of his own panting, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t miss the way Sirius murmurs against James’ lips. _“Fuck me, Jamie.”_

Remus and James gasp at the same time, and James looks at Remus. He’s not certain if it’s for consent, confirmation, need, but he nods. James could ask him for anything right then and he’d get it. No questions asked.

That seems to set James into motion. Sirius lays on his back sideways across the bed and brings his knees up before Remus stops him. 

“On your hands and knees, Pads. Facing me. I want you to look at me when Jamie fucks you.”

Remus is convinced if he were to die right there and then, he would die happy. 

He doesn’t want to stop watching, but he takes a chance to finally get rid of his trousers as Sirius and James fumble on the bed. 

“Now, Prongsie, he’s gonna complain, but he’s gonna need plenty of warming u—”

“No,” Sirius cuts him off.

“Told you he’d complain,” Remus laughs.

“No, Re. I mean it. I—” Sirius starts again.

That greedy bastard. “You cast the prep spell, didn’t you?

“I don’t want to wait,” Sirius admits with a pout. And if it was just the two of them, that would afford him a good twenty minutes over Remus’ knee, but, for once, Remus can’t find it in himself to blame him.

He could swear they all share the same breath the moment James breaches Sirius. He does it slowly, carefully. He strokes Sirius’ sides and asks him if he’s okay. Sirius’ eyes are on Remus the whole time and Remus gets the full reaction, the range of emotions his boyfriend goes through as James sinks slowly into him, words of affection whispered into Sirius’ hair.

A part of Remus is itching to join them on the bed, to fuck Sirius’ mouth or suck his cock as James’ pace quickens. But this? This is something else. He gets to watch the awe in James’ eyes as Sirius starts pushing back against him, meeting him halfway. 

It doesn’t take long from there, Remus’ hand on his cock matching the rhythm James sets. Sirius is a mess — moaning, swearing, both Remus’ and James’ names falling from his lips.

It’s when Sirius finally says “Re, please” that Remus’ resolve breaks.

It’s in absolute desperation that Remus takes the two steps that it takes him to get from the chair to the bed, and aims his cock at Sirius’ open mouth.

Sirius barely has the time to move his tongue over the head of Remus’ cock before he is spilling over the duvet, his moans sending Remus over the edge.

And it’s cold rain falling on the hot asphalt, on soil that’s suffered a dreadful drought. It’s the spicy, fresh, wettened pine, and it’s that rain sinking deeper and deeper into the thirsty earth. It’s bright ruby pebbles falling out of the waxy body of a pomegranate that was wrenched open by bare hands, crushed by Persephone herself. It’s thick, sun-yellow pineapple rounds, so sweet and so juicy the sugar crystals start forming over the edge if you leave them for too long. It’s them together, mixed with Remus himself, the scent of blood and fur that he can’t bring himself to loathe as much as usual in this precise moment. 

It’s these three scents blended together, soldered into one in this time and place, and the realisation that nothing has ever smelt this perfect before that has Remus coming over his own fist and Sirius’ open mouth and chin. He locks eyes with James, whose mouth falls open in the perfect O shape and follows Sirius and Remus into his own orgasm. 

They fall into the bed in a mess of limbs and Sirius sighs, loud and contented. After a minute or two, James finally speaks. 

“I think Lily is going to want to watch next time.”

And Remus laughs. Because he knows she does. He’d smelt it on her. _Ripe pears._

**Author's Note:**

> i am sure you all noticed that this is part of my new 'the year of the threesome' series! i have got the first six planned but i'll need six more, so if you have a favourite HP ot3/triad you'd like me to write a wee something for come tell me [on tumblr](https://onbeinganangel.tumblr.com) as i'll be taking requests. or just come say hi! i promise i'm lovely!


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